Addicted
by Rainack
Summary: Greg is abducted and forceably adicted to heroin. Can Nick help get him clean so he won't lose his job? On top of everything else, the two discover feelings for each other they didn't even realize they had. Please R&R! Rated M for later chapters. N/G!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: CSI and its characters do not belong to me. I just have fun playing with them once in a while. :)

A/N: Consider this your warning, there will be smut in later chapters. Don't like, don't read. Also, having never been addicted to any kind of drugs, I'm not sure if I'm doing the whole drug and withdrawals thing right, since I'm going on a bit of research and what I've seen on TV, so just bare with me. Timing is probably Season 8 or later. Anyway, hope you enjoy. Please read and review.

Addicted

Chapter 1

Greg Sanders opened his eyes and tried to look around. Darkness was all he could see, and he had to fight a surge of panic at the thought that he'd gone blind.

Calming himself, he tried to take in his situation. Attempting to move his arms, he found them bound to something – a chair, perhaps, since he was in a seated position. His feet were also bound. He could now feel that something was tied around his head, so he decided he'd been blindfolded, not blinded.

Fighting back another wave of panic, Greg tried to recall what had happened. Fuzzily, he remembered getting off shift at the Crime Lab – on time for once – at six a.m. He'd invited Nick Stokes out for a drink, but the Texan had declined, saying something about sleeping for a few days, and cursing Ecklie for calling him in during day shift to pull a double.

As Greg tried to think harder about what happened next, the low level throb in his head increased from a buzz to an angry pounding.

He'd headed to the bar he frequented, when he needed a drink to unwind after a tough case.

Pain shot through his head, but he pushed through it, desperate to remember.

A beer, he'd ordered a beer. Downed half of it in one go, too.

Wincing in pain, he pushed on, desperate to figure out what had happened to him. As a CSI, he knew how important even the smallest details could be. He had to remember!

The bartender had given him a shot of Tequila, saying a girl down the bar had bought it for him. He'd looked, but not seen her. Downing the shot in one go, he felt the alcohol burn its way down his throat to his stomach.

A moment later, the world went hazy, and he felt hands on his arms, leading him out. Damn! The drink had been spiked!

Now here he was, tied up and helpless. Taken by who know who and awaiting who knew what fate.

His vivid imagination began to come up with scenarios, starting with Nick's kidnaping several years ago. The older CSI had been buried alive and nearly died. Moving on to when Greg himself had been pulled from his department Denali and nearly beaten to death. Other scenarios insinuated themselves into his brain, and panic started to rise in him again.

When the voice spoke, he shrieked.

"Well, look who's finally awake," the man laughed at Greg's reaction.

"Wh-what do you want from me?" Greg couldn't keep a slight quaver from his voice.

"Oh, don't worry. We won't hurt you. We just need some new customers," the voice went on.

Greg felt something being wrapped around his right forearm, and tried to thrash.

A set of hands grabbed him and held him still, as the other person resumed tying the rubber tourniquet around his arm.

As the needle slid in his vein, Greg heard the man whisper in his ear, "Relax and enjoy the ride!"

_Oh, God! No!_ was all he had time to think before his body began to react to the drug.

Time had passed, but Greg had no idea how much.

Even though this was the first time he'd ever been high, he knew he was coming back down now, and hoped he could withstand the urge to inject himself with the contents of the syringe he'd been left with. So it had to have been hours since he'd been injected the last time. They'd given him several hits, over the course of what he could only imagine had been a couple of days.

Now, he'd been dropped off outside the bar he'd gone to. They'd left him with a note in one hand and the syringe in the other.

Leaning unsteadily against his car, Greg switched the note to the hand with the syringe, and managed to get his keys out to unlock the car.

Dropping the note and syringe on the passenger side seat, Greg picked up his cell phone from the center console. His fingers trembled as he opened it and dialed the first person to come to mind.

Before the other person could say anything, Greg said, "Nicky!"

"Greg! My god, where have you been?" Nick Stokes asked worriedly, his voice raised with his agitation.

"Please, help me!" Greg's voice sounded small and weak.

"Where are you? I'll come get you!"

Greg weakly told Nick where the bar was located, ending with, "Hurry! I don't know how long I can resist!"

"Hang on! I'm on my way!" was Nick's quick reply.

Greg could hear squealing tires in the background before he closed his phone. He allowed it to fall from senseless fingers, and eyed the syringe on the seat. He could feel the beginnings of withdrawal symptoms. It would be so easy. So easy to just pick up that syringe and... He cut himself off, fighting against the urge.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Nick pulled into the bar parking lot to a very disturbing sight.

Greg was sitting in the driver's seat of his car, with the door open. He held something in his hand. From this distance, Nick couldn't tell what it was, but the way it glinted in the sunlight he knew it couldn't be anything good.

As Nick watched, Greg pushed what he held against his right arm.

"Shit!" Nick cursed, as he realized that what Greg held was a syringe. Slamming on the breaks, Nick jumped from his truck and ran over to Greg, screaming, "Greg!"

Greg seemed to be watching his hand as if it didn't belong to him, or wasn't following his orders.

Grabbing Greg's hand, Nick pulled it and the syringe away from his arm. Greg hadn't been able to depress the plunger, so the syringe was still full. Nick flung the syringe onto the passenger seat and pulled Greg out of the car.

Sobbing, Greg pushed himself against Nick, burying his head in the older man's chest.

This took Nick by surprise, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he awkwardly patted the other man's back.

"Greg? What were you doing? What's going on? You've been missing for three days! Everyone's been looking for you!" he finally managed to say a moment later, once Greg's sobs tapered off.

"N-note, on the p-passenger s-seat," Greg managed to get out. He was trembling violently.

Pulling free of Greg, Nick leaned across the seat to retrieve the note. He carefully picked it up by the corners, since he wasn't wearing any gloves.

It was written on a crumpled three by five index card. _You are now addicted to China White. If you have the strength to get clean, you win. If you don't, I win. I've provided you with a complimentary hit. The next won't be free. Come find me, when you need more. I look forward to your patronage!_

It was signed: Pearly White. Nick figured that had to be the dealer's street name.

Nick took a step back, his face going pale.

Greg moved back toward the car, going for the syringe again. Nick grabbed him, pulling the younger man into a tight embrace to keep him from the car.

"You'll beat this, Greggo!" Nick's voice was full of conviction and determination.

Eyes wild, Greg tried to pull away, "I need it, Nick! I need it bad!"

"No!"

"Nick, please!" Greg sobbed, pushing against Nick, trying to get free.

"I'm going to call Catherine. This isn't your fault, Greg! I'll help you through this. We'll make sure you don't lose your job! It's not your fault!" Nick found himself babbling, but couldn't seem to help it.

The mention of his job seemed to pull Greg back, because he stopped fighting and just clung to Nick's shirt, sobbing.

"Catherine," Nick began, when the connection was made, before the night shift supervisor could speak. "I found him. I want you and only you to come over here," he gave her the location.

"Nick?" Catherine asked quizzically.

"I'll tell you when you get here. Only you!" he reiterated.

"Okay, I'll be there in ten."

True to her word, Catherine pulled into the lot ten minutes later. While they waited, Nick managed to get Greg to tell him a little about what had happened.

Catherine took in the way Greg was clinging to Nick with a raised eyebrow, but didn't say anything about it.

"Get a pair of gloves on, Cath," Nick told her, holding up the index card for her to see.

Catherine nodded, pulling her kit out of the back of her Denali.

"I only handled the edges," Nick said as he handed it to her a moment later. "I think Greg had it in his hand when he came to."

"Came to?" she asked in confusion. "Where's he been the last three days?"

"Read the card," Nick told her.

Catherine read the card, her heart falling down into her feet. "Oh, God!" was all she could get out.

A moment later, she said, "Ecklie's going to have a field day with this!"

"Ecklie _cannot_ fire him over this! It's not Greg's fault! We'll get him through this! He's strong, so he'll stay clean!" Nick felt anger rise in him at the thought of Ecklie's reaction.

"Okay. Let me process him, right here. Then you take him home."

Looking at Catherine challengingly, Nick said, "He's going to stay with me. We both are going to need at least a month off."

Catherine blinked at the sudden protective stance Nick seemed to have shifted into unconsciously. She'd never, in a million years, have thought of Nick Stokes as being gay, but now she wondered. She didn't think either man was gay, the way they always talked and joked about their female dates. Now she wasn't so sure. She wondered if maybe they had been attracted to each other for years, but just didn't realize it.

"Do you have something in your truck he can wear so I can take his clothes?" she asked.

"Yeah, I think so." Pulling Greg gently away from him, Nick looked down into the younger man's face. "Greg, let Cath start processing you. I'll get some of my clothes out for you," he didn't think it worth mentioning that they would be dirty clothes, as he'd been taking them home to wash.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Greg stood quietly, arms held away from his sides as Catherine took pictures, swabs, and tape lifts from various parts of him. His face burned with embarrassment and he had to fight the nearly overwhelming urge to dive into the car for the syringe. The presence of his two co-workers was the only thing holding him back. For some unknown reason, Nick's presence seemed to be the stronger influence on him than Catherine's.

Trying to keep himself from doing something he'd later regret, Greg focused on Nick, distracting himself from what his body was telling him he had to have.

Catherine startled him, when she gently tugged his shirt off over his head, but Nick was already back, with a bundle in his arms.

After she'd bagged the shirt, she asked Greg to take off his shoes and jeans.

Nick was already handing him a pair of jeans, so Greg's boxer briefs were only exposed for moments.

Pulling Nick's shirt on over his head, Greg caught an intoxicating whiff of the Texan's scent. He tried to tell himself it was just the withdrawal symptoms playing havoc on his senses, but he wasn't sure.

"Greg, I need you to tell me what happened. Everything you remember," Catherine prompted, once she had bagged Greg's clothes.

Nodding numbly, Greg haltingly recounted everything he could remember, from the moment he'd gotten off work, to now.

_Greg walked up to the bar, where several other patrons – both male and female – were drinking._

_It was just after six a.m., but this was Las Vegas, so there was no closing time for most of the bars in town._

_Having been here before, Greg was on friendly terms with the usual bartender, a man named Andy. It didn't appear that Andy was here today, though._

_A bartender Greg didn't recognize was filling some glasses from the beer tap, and glanced up when Greg walked in. He looked around, as if looking for someone, then went back to filing the glasses._

_When Greg approached the bar, the bartender said, "What'll it be?"_

"_Bottle of Budweiser," Greg replied. "Andy's night off?"_

"_Huh? Oh, yeah," the man replied, as he pulled the bottle of beer from the cooler and pried the top off it._

_Pulling some bills from his wallet, Greg set them on the bar next to the bottle. Picking the bottle up, Greg tipped it in salute, then brought it to his lips. When he set it down a moment later, half of the contents were already gone._

_The bartender took the bills and went to the register._

_Greg settled on the empty barstool in front of him, looking down at the bottle in his hands distractedly._

_They'd had another rough case tonight. A woman had shaken her infant daughter to death, and then overdosed on drugs. The most disturbing part of the case was that her entire family had been oblivious to the drug use, and there seemed to be no history of the woman using. The track marks on her arms were all fresh, less than a month old._

_The bartender startled Greg out of his thoughts when he slammed a shot glass down in front of him and filled it with Tequila._

"_From the blond down the bar," the bartender said with a tilt of his head in the woman's direction._

_Greg looked, but didn't see a woman fitting the description down that way. Shrugging, he picked up the glass and tossed the drink back, then slammed the glass down on the bar. He grimaced as the alcohol made its fiery way down his throat._

_A moment later, after another swallow of his beer, Greg looked up at the bartender and was alarmed to discover his vision going blurry._

"_Hey? You okay?" the bartender asked, as Greg began to sway on the barstool._

_Leaning over to look Greg in the face, the bartender raised his hand to signal someone over._

_Two sets of hands grabbed him, one on each arm, and Greg felt himself being lifted off the barstool. He tried to protest, but found himself unable to produce any coherent sounds._

Oh, shit! _he thought, as darkness claimed him._

"Do you know how many times they shot you up?" Catherine asked, still furiously writing in the notebook she'd pulled from her kit.

"Um... Five, maybe six times. Maybe-maybe more," Greg finished weakly. He was eyeing the syringe, still sitting on the seat in his car.

Catherine side stepped, putting herself between Greg and what would surely be the end of his career. Her eyes met Nick's and they shared a worried look.

"Had you ever seen the bartender before? Did he usually work on Andy's days off?" Catherine asked next.

"No. Never seen him before. Bernice or Harry usually worked when Andy didn't."

Finally running out of questions, Catherine pulled off her gloves and took one of Greg's hands in both of hers. "You're going to be okay! Don't worry about Ecklie!"

Mumbling, "Thanks, Cath," Greg allowed Nick to help him into the Denali.

Once Nick was in the driver's seat, Greg asked, "Are we gonna stop by my place, so I can get some things?"

"Maybe in a few days, when you're feeling better. For now, I've got an extra toothbrush, and you can borrow some of my clothes," Nick started the Denali and put it in gear.

Wrapping his arms tightly around his middle, Greg tried to keep himself from shaking apart. His tremors had subsided somewhat, when he'd been clinging to Nick, but now they were back, and seemed to be getting worse.

Seeing the wild look coming back into Greg's eyes, Nick reached over and squeezed the younger man's shoulder reassuringly. Greg seemed to calm somewhat, so Nick left his hand on Greg's shoulder for the rest of the trip.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

After watching Nick's truck pull away, Catherine pulled on a new set of gloves and leaned into the car to pick up the syringe.

Bagging the syringe, she closed and locked Greg's car, using the keys Greg had given her.

After carefully placing all of the bags of evidence she'd collected into the back of her Denali, she took off in the direction of the Crime Lab.

Catherine was walking through the main entrance to the lab, her arms full of evidence bags, when Sara saw her.

"Any word?" Sara asked. Her face was lined with worry for her missing co-worker.

Catherine hadn't told anyone about Nick's call.

Looking at the evidence bags again, Sara saw Greg's shirt. The color drained from her face, "That's Greg's!"

"Sara!" Catherine snapped to quiet Sara before the other woman could start to panic about the implications. "Nick found him. He's okay. Here," she thrust the evidence bags at Sara, "Go start processing this. I've got to go talk to Ecklie."

Sara eyed the bag containing the syringe, "Greg?" she asked fearfully.

"Don't speculate! I'll tell you everything later. I promise!" Catherine said, as Sara finally took Catherine's burdens.

Catherine's heels clicked on the linoleum as she walked briskly towards Conrad Ecklie's office. The wheels in her mind were spinning furiously as she thought about how to tell Ecklie about Greg's situation.

"Catherine. Any news?" Ecklie asked, looking up from his desk when Catherine knocked on his door frame and walked in.

His eyebrows climbed up towards his hairline when Catherine shut the door behind her.

"Nick found Greg," she began.

"That's great news!" but now his eyebrows were drawing together in a frown because Catherine wasn't smiling. That couldn't be good. "He's okay, isn't he?"

"Before I tell you anymore, Ecklie, let me tell you this: if you try to fire him, I will be advising him to seek legal council and sue the department," Catherine said, watching Ecklie's brows once again climb up his forehead.

"Why would I fire him?" Ecklie's voice was calm. He was curious, but not mad at Catherine's nearly insubordinate tone.

"He was abducted two days ago. The people who abducted him..." Catherine's voice caught and she nearly couldn't continue.

"Yes?"

"They repeatedly injected him with heroin. They-they did it to addict him. To expand their customer base," the last sentence she nearly spat out, as if the words tasted bad.

"What!" Ecklie couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You know he can't be allowed in the lab or on a scene. If he tests positive on the random drug screenings..."

Catherine cut him off, "I'm giving him a month off, Nick too. Nick's going to help him through the withdrawals. He'll be clean by the time his month's leave is up," Catherine said in disgust at the way Ecklie was acting. He didn't seem concerned about Greg's well being, just the lab.

"I'm going to hold you to that. He has to test before he can resume his duties. If he has a positive drug test any time after his month off, I won't have a choice but to let him go."

"Thank you!" It was all Catherine could really hope for.

Someone else may have forced the addiction on Greg, but it was now his choice to kick it. There were some people who just didn't have the strength to get clean and stay that way. She knew Greg wasn't one of those people. She suspected Nick would make sure of it.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Nick settled Greg on the sofa and handed him the remote control, hoping to give him a distraction. Greg just started blankly at it and wrapped his arms around himself again.

"I'm going to make something to eat. You may not feel hungry, but you've got to keep your strength up." Greg didn't respond, so Nick went into the kitchen.

After fixing a couple sandwiches and stacking a pile of chips on two plates, Nick grabbed two bottled waters and took everything out to the livingroom.

Greg was still sitting where Nick had left him, rocking himself back and forth on the sofa.

After setting everything on the coffee table, Nick twisted the cap off one of the water bottles and tried to hand it to Greg. Greg didn't move to take the bottle.

"Come on, Greg. You gotta keep hydrated. It'll help flush the drugs outta your system," Nick held the bottle out again.

Greg squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Almost too quietly for Nick to hear, he said, "What if I don't want the drugs out of my system?"

"Come on, now! You don't mean that!"

"Don't try to tell me what I don't mean!" Greg practically screamed at him.

Nick winced, but didn't back down. He didn't say anything, just continued to offer the water bottle.

Greg's face turned crimson, and he stammered, "I-I'm sorry! I-I don't know..."

"It's okay, Greggo. It's the drugs talking."

A sob escaped Greg, as he said, "I know what that stuff will do to me, to my life, but there's a part of me... Oh, God! The way I felt... It was like rapture."

"I know, Greg, I know!"

Greg looked over at the older man, sensing that Nick truly did know. He promised himself he would ask Nick about it, but not now.

Finally reaching for the water bottle, Greg discovered his hand was shaking so badly, he wouldn't have been able to hold it if he'd wanted to.

Nick kept hold of the bottle, gently placing it to Greg's lips. Greg took a long swallow of the cold water.

Looking at his shaking hands, Greg said, "My hands haven't shaken this much since the lab exploded."

Nick replied knowingly, "It'll get worse before it gets better."

Once they'd eaten – Nick pretty much feeding Greg – Nick said, "Why don't you go in the guest room and try to get some sleep."

Too exhausted to argue, Greg let Nick lead him to the guest room, where he collapsed on the bed. Nick wasn't sure the younger man would be able to sleep, but he knew that was one thing he'd be needing a lot of in the coming days, but that he probably wouldn't get much.

After locking up and setting the alarm, Nick followed his own advice and crashed out in his room.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

When Catherine entered the layout room, she found Sara staring at the bags of evidence sitting on the lighted layout table.

"Sara?" Catherine queried the other woman softly. Getting no reply, she tried more loudly, "Sara!"

Blinking, Sara looked up at Catherine. "What happened to Greg, Cath? I can't get my mind around that syringe. Greg would _never_ knowingly..." she trailed off. Then, "Would he?" she thought back to her own battle with alcohol a few years back. This was different, but also the same, on so many levels.

"Greg wasn't off on a binge, the last few days. At least, not willingly," Catherine explained quietly. Picking up a pair of gloves, she put them on and reached for the bag containing the syringe. She wanted to dust it for prints before sending it for chemical analysis. "He was abducted and forcibly injected with this stuff over the course of two days." Handing the evidence bag containing the note to Sara, Catherine said, "Dust this for prints, then run a computer search for the street name 'Pearly White.'"

Taking the bag from Catherine, Sara read the note through the clear plastic. "Damn!" Sara said, as she set the bag down to pull on a pair of gloves.

"It'll have Nick's and Greg's prints on it for sure, but hopefully Pearly left us a sample of his, too," Catherine said, as she lightly brushed a fingerprint brush over the syringe.

She discovered the syringe mostly contained smudges, but there were also a couple of partials. Using tape lifts, she quickly lifted the partials.

Putting the syringe back in the bag and resealing it, Catherine took off to the DNA lab – which also processed chemicals – and the fingerprint lab.

"Hey, Catherine!" Wendy smiled as she looked up at the older woman. "That's great news that Greg's been found!"

Catherine frowned, "How did you..."

"Ecklie sent out an e-mail. Said that Greg was found and is okay, but will be taking a month long leave of absence."

Relaxing, Catherine said, "Oh, yeah."

"You need that analyzed?" Wendy asked, gesturing at the bagged syringe Catherine held.

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure it's heroin, but I'd like to know the concentration and if there's anything else mixed in."

"Okay. No problem," Wendy accepted the evidence bag when it was held out to her.

Looking at the information written on the bag, Wendy's eyes widened. "This pertains to Greg's case?"

Not wanting to go too far into details, Catherine simply said, "He was forcibly addicted."

"Oh, my!" was Wendy's shocked reply.

"Call me with the results," Catherine requested, as she turned to continue on her journey.

In the print lab, Catherine logged onto the computer, then scanned in the two partial prints she'd managed to get from the syringe.

First she compared both partials to Nick's and Greg's fingerprints. One of the partials belonged to Nick. The other didn't belong to either man.

Identifying several distinguishing characteristics of her unknown partial, Catherine set the computer to search AFIS for matching prints.

Knowing the search would probably take a while, Catherine left the print lab to return to the layout room.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The shrill sound of the burglar alarm awoke Nick a few hours later.

Memories of the day before flooding back, he knew no one was trying to get in. Quite the opposite, in fact.

"Greg!" Nick yelled, scrambling out of bed. He ran out to the front room in his briefs, not caring who saw, just desperate to stop his friend from making a mistake he'd regret.

The front door stood open, and Greg was half way down the walk. He was still dressed in the clothes Nick had given him when Catherine took the ones he'd been wearing.

"Greg, stop!" Nick shouted, causing the young man to turn toward him.

The wild look was back, and Nick thought he could faintly hear Greg moaning his need under the wail of the alarm.

"Come back inside, Greg," behind Nick, the phone began ringing. No doubt the alarm company calling to ask if everything was okay.

Grabbing the phone by the door, Nick quickly gave them his password, then made up a story about a problem with the alarm, could they please shut it down on their end. He didn't want to divert his attention from his friend.

Putting the phone back down, Nick looked back to Greg, who stood indecisively on the walk still. He took a cautious step towards Greg. When Greg didn't bolt, Nick continued towards him.

Wrapping an arm around Greg's trembling frame, Nick guided him back to the house. Locking up and resetting the alarm, Nick murmured, "Come on. Let's go back to bed."

"I'm sorry," Greg whispered, leaning heavily on the older man.

"It's okay! I understand," Nick replied.

They were moving past the guest room now.

"Wh-what are you doing, Nicky?" Greg asked uncertainly.

"Can't have that happening again. I sleep real light, so I'll know the instant you get out of bed, so you're sleeping with me."

"Oh," was Greg's weak reply.

Greg crawled in the bed and rolled to face the wall. Nick lay down and faced the opposite way.

Greg was trembling so violently the whole bed was shaking. Nick knew the younger man couldn't help it and he wished he could take the pain into himself. Greg should never have had to go through this.

Thinking about how their earlier contact had calmed Greg, Nick ventured, "Would-would you like me to hold you again, Greg?"

Almost too low to hear, Greg replied, "Please, Nicky."

"Come here," Nick whispered.

Greg rolled over into Nick's arms, burying his face in Nick's bare chest.

Awkwardly, Nick wrapped his arms around the younger man.

Greg's trembling subsided to barely perceptible tremors, and he let out a small sigh. As he slipped into sleep, his breathing evened out, and the tremors finally faded away.

Prepared for a long sleepless night – since Nick he'd never fallen asleep while holding a man – Nick was surprised to wake up several hours later.

Greg had just gotten out of bed, and was moving quickly out of the room. Tensed to go after him, Nick relaxed a moment later, at the sound of running water in the bathroom.

Then he was rushing to the bathroom to check on Greg, when the sounds of violent vomiting reached him.

Grabbing a washcloth from the linen closet, Nick took it into the bathroom with him. Holding it under cold running water, he allowed it to saturate, then rung most of it out.

Kneeling down next to Greg, Nick put the wet washcloth on the back of Greg's neck.

Finally finished, Greg sank down to the bathroom floor, knees drawn up to his chest. Resting his head on his knees, he groaned, "I hurt all over!"

"All part of the symptoms. They'll come and go over the next few days," Nick replied quietly, sitting down beside his friend. "You'll probably start having difficulty sleeping, too."

"Few days?" Greg repeated in near terror. "I-I can't go through this for a few days!"

"Easy, Greg," Nick soothed, shifting so he could look the other man over.

"I've got to get out of here!" Greg moved to get up, but Nick jumped up and blocked his path.

"Anxiety. Another symptom," Nick told him quietly. "It'll take seven to ten days to get past the symptoms, but you can do it!"

Desperate to get past Nick, Greg threw a punch at him, but Nick caught the younger man's wrist easily.

Greg's demeanor changed in a heartbeat, and now he was crying and burying his face in Nick's bare chest again, wailing, "I'm sorry!"

Nick realized with some embarrassment that he was still clad only in his briefs.

When Greg's sobs had subsided, Nick pulled away so he could look Greg in the eye, "Why don't you take a shower, and I'll get dressed and fix breakfast."

At the look Greg gave him, Nick laughed nervously and said, "Uh-huh! No way! That's where I draw the line! As it is, if you tell anyone that I had you sleep in my bed..." he trailed off, giving the other man a smile to reassure him that he was mostly joking. Mostly!

A/N: I hope you're enjoying this story. Please be sure to hit that button at the bottom of the page and leave some feedback.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Sara had passed Catherine on her own trip to the print lab.

"I've got a few partials from that card. I'm going to go run them, then I'll see what I can find out about Pearly White," she told Catherine in passing.

"Okay, I've got the system searching for matches to the one unknown partial I pulled from the syringe. I'm going to go process Greg's clothes."

Sara settled in at the second computer in the print lab. She scanned in the prints she'd pulled – three partials and one full print. First she checked them against Nick's and Greg's prints. The full print and one of the partials belonged to Greg. The other two were unknown.

Examining the two unknown partials, she found that they matched each other, so she knew they came from the same person.

Pulling Catherine's partial, she compared it to hers. Again, they matched.

Knowing there was no point in running another search for the same print, Sara logged into the department's database to start searching for Pearly White.

Jim Brass approached the bar, his badge in hand," I'm Captain Jim Brass, Las Vegas Crime Lab. Are you Andy?"

The bartender was wiping down a glass, preparing to put it away. His eyebrows raised in curiosity, he replied, "That's right. How can I help you, officer?"

Brass held up a picture of Greg. "Do you know this man?"

"He comes in periodically. Name's Greg. Hey, doesn't he work with you guys?"

He disappeared from here, a few days ago."

"That was him? I heard about it. It was my night off."

"Who usually tends bar when you're off?"

"Either Bernice or Harry, but Harry's on vacation this week, and I heard Bernice called in sick."

"Anyone else?" Brass was taking notes in his notebook. "Oh, and I'll need the last names of Bernice and Harry."

"We're kind of short handed right now. I think the boss may have called one of those tem agencies for an experienced bartender for a few days."

Ray Langston had been looking around, now he came over and said, "I need to see your Tequila." Setting his kit on the bar, he took a pair of gloves from his it and pulled them on.

"Sure, over here." Andy reached for the bottles, but Brass stopped him.

"Don't touch them."

Ray walked around behind the bar and picked up the four Tequila bottles.

"Have you poured from these in the last few days?" Ray asked, eyeing one of the bottles.

"Yeah, sure. Except that one," Andy pointed at one of the bottles. It had been sitting behind the others and was still mostly full. "We don't usually serve that brand here. I don't know where it came from."

"Did you report it to your boss?" Brass asked.

Andy shrugged. "I guess I really didn't think about it."

The bar owner came back from the office, a stack of VHS tapes in his hand. "Don't know if these'll help. They loop every twenty-four hours or so."

Brass agreed, "Probably not," but accepted the stack anyway.

Ray held up the Tequila bottle Andy had said didn't belong to the bar. "Do you recognize this?"

"We don't serve that brand here. Where did it come from?"

"It was with the other bottles of Tequila, behind the bar," Ray replied.

"Which temp agency did you go through for the bartender who worked two days ago?" Brass asked, pen poised.

Ray was bagging the four bottles of Tequila, as Brass talked to the bar owner.

"Rosetta Temps. They're the only agency who will deal with trained bartenders. I've never had a problem with any of their temps in the past."

"You remember the name of the guy they sent over?" Brass asked, as he wrote down the agency's name.

"I can do better than that. I can give you a copy of his work card."

"That'd be very helpful. Thank you."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Last warning. Don't like, don't read.

Please be sure and leave feedback at the end.

Chapter 9

By day five, Greg's symptoms were nearly gone. He got an occasional cold sweat, but only one anxiety attack a day. By day three, he no longer tried to bolt out the door to find a fix. He was even beginning to regain his quirky personality.

The evening of day five, Greg said over dinner, "I should probably stay in the guest room tonight."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Nick replied, but couldn't shake a pang of disappointment. He couldn't explain why, but he'd grown accustomed to sleeping with the younger man in his arms. It felt comfortable and right. He'd never felt as comfortable with a woman in his arms.

Later that night, Nick was laying in his bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. It had been over an hour since he'd crawled into bed, and his eyes were still wide open.

A shadow moved across the doorway, and he tensed until he realized it was Greg.

"Nicky? You asleep?" Greg whispered.

"No, Greg. You can't sleep, either?" he asked.

"No," was Greg's quiet reply. "Miss having your arms around me," this was said so quietly, Nick wasn't sure he'd heard correctly.

"Come here," Nick invited.

Greg scrambled into the bed, sighing as Nick's arms wrapped around him. "Don't know why this feels so good. We're both straight men, so this should feel really weird."

"Has to do with comfort, I guess," the Texan replied, though he was feeling that there might be more to it than that.

They both grew quiet, and were quiet for so long that Nick thought Greg had fallen asleep.

Greg's voice brought Nick out of his own light doze, "Have you ever... experimented?"

Knowing this question had been coming, Nick replied, "You mean with drugs?"

"N-no. I mean... have you ever had sex with a man?"

The question caught Nick off balance, but piqued his curiosity, "No. Have you?"

"No."

Nick sensed Greg's eyes on him in the dark, and could barely make out the outline of the younger man's face.

Suddenly, Nick found himself pressed harder into the mattress, Greg straddling his hips. Greg's lips pressed tentatively, hesitantly, to Nick's.

Nick's body reacted. His lips parted, inviting a deeper kiss, his heart rate sped up, blood rushing to his most sensitive parts.

A gasp of surprise told Nick that Greg had felt Nick's stirring desire. Greg tried to pull away, but Nick rolled them so now he was perched atop Greg.

Grinding himself against Greg's stirring desire, Nick leaned down and whispered hoarsely in Greg's ear, "Tell me you want to try this!" he didn't know what he'd do if Greg turned him down now. He didn't know if he'd have the strength to pull away.

Greg let out another gasp, as they rubbed against each other through the material of their underwear. Reaching up, he pulled the Texan tighter against him, letting out an "Oh..." of pleasure.

Capturing Greg's lips with his, he said, "I'll take that as a yes."

As one of Greg's hands cupped the back of Nick's neck, to pull him closer, his other found the waistband of Nick's briefs.

Once Nick's briefs were disposed of, Greg pushed Nick over on his back. He stared for a moment, taking in what he could of the other man's form in the dark room.

"What?" Nick asked huskily, afraid Greg was about to change his mind.

"I've _never_ wanted a man before! I want you, Nicky!" Greg leaned over Nick, trailing fiery kisses down Nick's torso to his pulsing hardness. "I want all of you!" In his mind, Greg was thinking _I think I'm trading one addiction for another._

Greg teased Nick with his tongue, holding Nick's hips down with one hand, as the older man tried to thrust up and gain entry to the warmth of Greg's mouth.

Finally, Greg took Nick fully into his mouth. Nick convulsed, his hands tangling in Greg's shaggy blond hair.

"Greg! Oh!" Nick exclaimed, as his release came.

Greg nearly choked, but managed to capture every last drop, knowing he could become as addicted to Nick as he had been to the heroin. This would be a good addiction, though. At least as long as Nick reciprocated.

Tugging gently on Greg's hair, Nick pulled him up so they were face to face again. "I want to taste myself on you!" he whispered hoarsely before their lips met.

Nick's hands roamed over the other man's body, tracing from the healed scars from the lab explosion so many years ago, down to the waistband of Greg's briefs. Pushing the briefs over the younger man's hips, Nick soon helped Greg rid himself of the offending garment.

Now Greg found himself on his back, Nick grinding his reawakened erection into his.

Arching his back, Greg sighed, "This feels so good!"

"Wait until you feel this!" Nick teased, as he began to work his way down Greg's body, much the same as Greg had done to him mere moments before.

Tasting and touching and lapping and licking, Nick's tongue explored every inch of Greg's hard length, drawing sighs of pleasure from Greg.

"Nicky, please!" Greg pleaded, as the pleasure finally reached its peek.

Nick gently sucked Greg's length into his mouth, drawing forth another moan from the man under him.

Greg's hips bucked, as his own release claimed him.

A moment later, Nick moved over top of Greg again, claiming his lips in a tender kiss.

"Was it how you thought it would be?" Nick asked hesitantly, shyly.

"And more!" Greg assured the suddenly shy man. "How about you?"

"I-I really enjoyed it," Nick struggled with the implications for the future, then finally decided to let it go and just wait and see. He hoped neither of them regretted what they'd done in the morning.

Greg seemed to read his thoughts, because he said, "No matter what, always friends? If-if nothing becomes of... this."

"You bet, Greggo!" Nick sighed, pulling Greg down beside him and wrapping his arms around the younger man.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The next morning, Greg awoke to the feel of soft lips nibbling the sensitive skin behind his ear. Nick's bare chest was pressed tightly against Greg's bare back.

Feeling the now familiar gnawing of need, Greg pushed past it, transformed it. He forced it to become the gnawing need not of heroin, but of the Texan who's body was so close to his.

Twisting around so that he was now facing the older man, Greg gazed up into Nick's brown eyes. Nick gazed back at Greg, his eyes held a guarded look, as though he expected to be pushed away at any moment.

Moving his hand up, so he could trace a finger gently down Nick's powerful jaw line, Greg asked softly, "Any regrets?" He figured he already had his answer, but he wanted to make absolutely sure he wasn't misreading the messages Nick's body language was sending him.

"Mmm mmm. You?" Nick asked cautiously. He felt sure that Greg should be able to hear how fast his heart was thudding in his chest right now.

Trailing his fingers lightly down Nick's arm to where his hand rested on Greg's hip, Greg grasped the older man's hand, twining their fingers together.

As Greg's lips captured his, Nick let out a moan of relief and intense desire. Suddenly frantic with need, Nick rolled Greg onto his back and straddled the younger man's hips.

Nick was deaf and blind to everything but Greg, so it took a moment for the sound of his cell phone ringing, and Greg's breathy, "Nicky... your phone," to penetrate the haze in Nick's brain.

Rolling off of Greg and onto his own back, Nick grabbed the object of his sudden ire from the bedside table.

As he brought the phone to his ear, his other arm draped across his eyes, he let out an automatic, "Stokes."

"Hey, Nicky! How's Greg?" was Catherine's response.

"He's doing much better," Nick replied, feeling heat rise up in his cheeks.

"I thought I'd better call you with an update on his case."

"Yeah? Did you find that dealer?" Nick asked, now sitting up with keen interest.

Greg was watching him closely, hoping to glean as much information as possible from the side of the conversation he could hear.

"We couldn't get anything from the bar's tapes. We tracked down the temp bartender. He told Brass he'd been given a hundred dollars to give Greg the spiked Tequila. He described the guy, but without a name, we got nothing there. The street name, Pearly White, isn't in the system. He's either new or changed his name," Catherine gave him a concise rundown.

"In other words, nada," Nick replied, a stony expression on his face.

"Sorry, Nick. Tell Greg we all said hi," Catherine responded a moment later.

"Okay. Thanks for the update, Cath," Nick said, then flipped his phone closed and put it back on the night stand.

"Nothing, huh?" Greg asked, as Nick flopped back onto the mattress in frustration.

"I guess this is going to be one of those hurry and wait cases," Nick replied. Meaning they would have to wait for the dealer to get caught, or someone to let something slip about him.

"He's out there, doing this to other people... isn't he?" Greg's hands were trembling again. Balling his hands up into tight fists, he tried to will the shaking to stop, but couldn't.

Calloused hands covered Greg's shaking fists, and the tremors began to lessen. Looking up, Greg saw Nick's concern filled gaze through his own tear filled one.

"He'll make a mistake, then we'll have him," Nick said with conviction, as his thumb rubbed back and forth over the web between thumb and index finger on Greg's right hand.

Looking from their hands, back up to Nick's face, Greg shyly asked, "Nicky, what's happening to us?"

Quietly, Nick replied, "I'm not sure, Greggo, but..." he trailed off for a moment, "I like it, whatever it is."

"Me, too," was Greg's equally quiet response. He opened his fists and interlaced his fingers with Nick's, then pushed the older man backwards.

Nick now lay on his back with his head at the foot of the bed. Greg's lithe body straddled him, and his hands pinned Nick's to the bed.

A small smile playing over Greg's face was the only warning Nick got. He sucked in a gasp as Greg's teeth gently nipped the skin at the base of his neck.

Nick playfully fought to free his hands, needing to be able to run them over Greg's body, but Greg kept his weight on his hands, denying Nick release.

"Greg!" Nick pleaded, causing Greg to raise up enough to look him in the face.

Greg recognized the look Nick gave him, the one he had worn himself – just a few days ago – for a substance, but now he wore it for this man. The look of addiction.

"What?" Nick gasped, his skin shrieking at the loss of heat from Greg's contact.

"How is it that you knew what I'd go through so well? You've been through it, haven't you?" it was asked very quietly, no hint of accusation or reproach.

Nick looked away, feeling weak.

Lifting Nick's chin with a finger, so he was forced to meet Greg's eyes, Greg said quietly, "We're together because of it. You don't have to be embarrassed."

Blinking back sudden tears, Nick finally managed, "I experimented with drugs, in college. Not something I'm proud of. I got hooked on heroin. Two years I was on the stuff. Took me nearly O. to get me clean."

"Thank you for telling me," Greg said quietly, wiping Nick's tears away.

Cupping Greg's cheek with his freed hand, Nick said gruffly, "I feel like I'm using again. I'm addicted to you, Greg."

Before claiming Nick's lips in a needy kiss, Greg replied, "I'm addicted to you, too, Nicky!"


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"No! Absolutely not! It's too soon for you to be subjecting yourself to that kind of temptation!" Nick's expression was one of anger, but Greg could see past that. Fear filled his friend's – no, they'd gone past that in the last few days, they had become lovers – brown eyes.

"I have to do this, Nick. He can't be allowed to do this to anyone else," Greg, usually so even tempered, could feel his own temper rising at Nick's unyielding stance.

Closing his eyes and running his hands through his close cropped hair, Nick let out a sigh to try to regain control. "Greg, you don't understand. It has been _years_ since I've used, but I can still feel that tug. Whenever I find drugs at a crime scene, I have to wage war inside my head. It would be so easy to just..." the sentence trailed away, and Nick finally opened his eyes to look at Greg.

Eyes wide, Greg just stared at Nick. He didn't think anyone else on the team knew Nick as well as he was getting to know the Texan. This was a side of the man that he'd never seen before.

"You've been off the stuff for a little over a week," Nick went on. "I know you still feel that pull very strongly," Nick watched Greg shift guiltily on his feet. "That's why I won't let you out of my sight.."

"And here I thought you couldn't take your eyes off my body," Greg quipped a bit lamely.

Nick allowed his eyes to glide over his lover's body hungrily, then said softly, "I'm just afraid that if you deliberately put yourself in a situation where it's available, you might slip." Crossing the room to stand in front of Greg, hands on his shoulders, Nick said softly, "If I lost you, I think I'd die!"

"Nicky," the nick name sent a shudder down the Texan's frame. Fisting his hands in Nick's shirt, Greg pulled Nick forward. Nick's hands snaked behind Greg's neck, pulling the younger man's lips to his own.

Just before their lips met, Greg whispered, "I'm yours, for as long as you want me." Inside, Greg was wracked with guilt for what he was planning, and hoped that Nick would be able to forgive him some day.

Pushing Nick against the wall, Greg gave himself over to this need to claim Nick, and let all other thoughts escape for the time being.

Pinning Nick's hands above his head, Greg roughly kissed the older man, and felt him respond. Nick's tongue fought for dominance with Greg's, as Nick's body tried to push away from the wall. Up to now, Greg had been allowing Nick to be dominant, now Nick suddenly found Greg dominating him, and found himself becoming ever more aroused at the thought of the strength the younger man possessed over him.

Nick brought one leg up around Greg's, pulling their hips together tightly. Groaning, as their pulsing erections rubbed through their clothes, Nick whispered huskily, "I love you!"

For a moment, Nick feared he'd gone to far, that Greg would pull away.

Greg only pulled back enough to look Nick in the face, as a big, goofy grin stretched across the boyish features, lighting up his brown eyes. He still refused to think about his plan, and felt that this would probably be the last time he ever heard those three words from this man.

Releasing Nick's hands, Greg trailed his hands down Nick's arms and sides, until he reached the bottom of Nick's shirt. Pushing his hands up under the shirt, Greg leaned in and nibbled on Nick's earlobe before whispering, "I love you, too!"

Nick thought he caught a faint trace of sadness in Greg's voice, but shrugged it off, thinking he had to have been mistaken. Later, he'd berate himself for missing this vital clue, a clue he felt any other CSI would have picked up on immediately, thus being able to stop Greg's harebrained plan.

While Greg's hands wandered over Nick's stomach and chest under his shirt, Nick's hands found their way to Greg's jeans. After unbuttoning all of the buttons on the button fly, Nick ran his hand over the bulge in Greg's briefs.

Greg's sharp gasp of pleasure turned Nick on even more, his own jeans becoming unbearably tight.

Abandoning their exploration of Nick's chest, Greg's hands wandered down to the button fly of Nick's jeans. Before working the buttons, Greg stroked Nick's bulge, watching the other man push against Greg's hand hungrily.

Looking into his lover's face, Nick said dreamily, "I want to feel you inside of me."

Pulling Nick away from the wall, Greg pushed him in the direction of the bedroom, an animal-like growl emerging from his throat.

Along the way, Greg pulled off his shirt and pushed off his jeans and underwear. He noticed Nick had done the same.

In the bedroom, Nick shyly pulled a bottle of lube and a wrapped condom from the night stand.

"H-have you ever done it this way with a woman?" he asked quietly. "I've always wanted to, but..." he trailed off.

"Sh..." Greg said, taking the lube from Nick's suddenly shaky fingers, "I know what to do. Lay down on your stomach and relax."

Nick did as instructed, and Greg pulled Nick's hips up, so his perfect ass was sticking up slightly.

After lubing a finger, Greg placed it at Nick's entrance, again soothing, "Relax."

Reaching under Nick and taking the other man's length in his hand, Greg began to stroke as he pushed the finger in.

Nick moaned, partly pain, but mostly pleasure.

After pushing up to three fingers in, Greg heard Nick rasp, "Now, Greg! Please!"

Pulling his fingers out, Greg tore open the condom package with his teeth and sheathed his own aching hardness. Lubing himself up, he placed the tip at Nick's entrance. Slowly, gently, he pushed himself into Nick's tight hole.

Nick's gasp of pleasure escaped at the same time Greg groaned.

"Oh, Nicky! You feel so good!" Greg rasped, as he slowly began to move in the older man.

"Greg!" Nick exclaimed, pushing himself against the younger man, wanting Greg as far inside him as possible. "Oh, Greg! Faster, please!"

Greg began moving faster, and Nick took hold of his own erection, pumping to Greg's rhythm.

Greg's release followed a moment behind Nick's.

Nick let out a hoarse, "Oh, Greggo!"

While Greg nearly screamed, "Nicky!"

Nick was so drained, he nearly didn't make it under the covers before he fell asleep.

Smiling sadly, Greg cleaned up their mess, dressed, and wrote a quick note for Nick.

He'd discovered that Nick slept quite deeply after sex.

A/N: Nearly done. Only a couple more chapters to go. Please read and review. Love the reviews!


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Being a crime scene investigator meant that Greg knew all of the seedy parts of town – the areas where a dealer would hang out and make sales.

It was to the seediest neighborhood in Vegas that Greg headed now, hoping he could find Pearly White. He'd called Brass earlier, and gotten him to agree to help him with his plan.

He knew his note probably wouldn't fool Nick for long, so he had to move quickly. Plus, he didn't want to give Brass a chance to change his mind.

This late at night, in this part of town, he was by no means safe, but Greg figured that as long as he acted as though he belonged, he'd probably be fine. Probably.

He wore a pair of stained jeans, and a t-shirt he'd torn a few holes in, and he had left his usually spiked hair in disarray. Well hidden under his shirt was a wire. Adopting the wild eyed look he knew was always near the surface these days, Greg took on a stumbling gait and approached everyone he saw.

"Looking for Pearly White. You seen 'im?" he slurred at anyone who'd listen. Mostly he got strange looks. The hookers pushed him away, shaking their heads and laughing at him.

He was several blocks down from his original starting point when he was pulled into an alley.

"I hear you're looking for me?" the voice sank into Greg's brain, making him shudder. He had been pushed face first against the wall, and still couldn't see the guy, but he remembered that voice!

"Pearly White? That you?" Greg slurred, doing his best to keep up his act.

"Who wants to know?" the hands holding him pushed him roughly against the wall.

"Need a fix, man. Gotta have some," part of Greg's brain whispered seductively to him that he really did need that fix. He stomped on it viciously, firmly planting Nick's image in his mind.

"Ah, yeah. I remember you. The bar a couple weeks ago. Surprised you held out this long." Hands roughly groped Greg's pockets, pulling out the wad of cash Brass had lent him for the sting. "Let's see how much you got!" Thumbing through the money, Pearly said, "Here ya go."

Greg felt a package pressed into his hand a moment later.

"You just made the biggest mistake of your pathetic life," Greg said, as Brass's car pulled into the mouth of the alley, lights flashing.

Pearly White turned and ran.

Brass was getting out of the car, in an awkward run, but Greg had already been closer. Pouring every ounce of anger he had into his legs, Greg put on a burst of speed that allowed him to tackle the drug dealer.

Pearly White squirmed, trying to get free. When that proved impossible, he turned and tried to punch Greg in the face. Greg pulled aside, and was about to try to land a punch of his own, when Brass shoved his gun into Pearly's face.

"Pearly White, or whoever you are, you are under arrest for possession with intent to sell and assaulting an officer," Brass informed the man, as Greg pulled him to his feet for handcuffing.

"Assaulting an officer! I didn't assault no officer!"

"I'm a CSI with the Las Vegas Crime Lab, genius!" Greg informed the man. "You're fingerprints will match the prints found on the note and the syringe of heroin you left me after you abducted me and shot me full of that shit!"

Brass pushed Pearly White into the hands of a waiting officer, then turned to Greg. "I'd call Nick, if I were you. He called me a bit ago, wanting to know if I knew where you were. He sounded pretty pissed."

Running a hand over his face, Greg sighed, "Thanks, Brass. See you officially in a few weeks. That's if I survive Nicky's wrath."

Brass gave Greg an odd look before turning to leave.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Greg turned it on, then dialed Nick's number.

"Greg, where the hell are you!" Nick's voice was high with anger and fear, his Texan accent deeper than usual.

"Brass helped me get him, Nicky. It's over," Greg winced, ready for Nick's tirade.

"Oh, Greg! Damn it!" Nick's voice had gotten quieter, something Greg hadn't expected. Nick's voice usually got louder, especially the angrier he got. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just, come get me, please. I want to go home." Greg waited for Nick to tell him to go to hell, but it never came.

Instead, Nick said, "Where are you, Greggo?"

When Nick arrived, Greg was waiting quietly at the mouth of the alleyway where he'd helped Brass take down Pearly White – who it was later discovered was a man named Clinton Styles.

"I'll understand if you never want to talk to me again," Greg said, his head hanging, waiting for the lashing he was sure was coming. He knew he deserved it.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Nick asked, confused. He had pulled his truck into the alleyway, where Brass's car had been a short time before, and now stood in front of Greg. Taking Greg's chin in his hand, he forced the younger man to look at him.

"I- I lied to you. I used sex to get you to fall asleep so I could go against your wishes. I..." he trailed off, as Nick pulled him into a hug.

"Nothing you ever do, no matter how frustrating, or infuriating it might be at the time, would ever drive me away from you! I love you, damn it!" Nick said, then crushed his lips against Greg's. "Come on. Let's go home."

Sagging against Nick, Greg quietly said, "Oh, thank god!" Huskily he added, "I need my fix of you, before I start going through withdrawals."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Three weeks later:

Nick followed Greg into Ecklie's office. It was the day before their first official night back at work, which meant Greg had to have his drug test. Also, he and Nick had decided to be honest with Ecklie about their relationship. At most, one of them would have to change shifts.

Ecklie's eyebrows raised as Nick closed the door behind himself.

"Nick, Greg. How are you doing?" Ecklie asked, as he set his pen down.

"Ready to come back to work," was Greg's response.

"Okay. You'll need to report to the tox lab for your drug test. Somehow, I don't think that's the only reason you're here, though," Ecklie replied.

Nick reached out a hand to Greg, and the younger man twined his fingers with Nick's.

Ecklie's eyebrows rose again.

"Over the past month, we've developed a relationship," Nick began.

"And after what happened with Grissom and Sara a few years back, we thought honesty would be the best policy," Greg finished.

Clearing his throat, Ecklie said, "Okay, there are a couple of ways we can work this. Do you want to stay on the same shift?"

"If possible, yes," Nick and Greg both agreed.

"So this is what has to happen: You can't work scenes together, unless there are other CSIs present. Nick, you have to let Catherine do Greg's evals. Also, if I hear any lab techs or other CSIs complain about any inappropriate behaviors in the workplace, you'll be put on different shifts."

"Thank you, sir," Nick said, at the same time Greg said an enthusiastic, "Thank you!"

A few minutes later, they were over at the tox lab.

The day shift toxicology technician picked up a plastic cup and told Greg, "Follow me."

Groaning, Greg said, "A little privacy?"

"Sorry, Ecklie's orders," was the technician's level response.

Rolling his eyes, Greg allowed the male technician to follow him into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, the technician said, "You're clean. Welcome back."

Smiling happily at Greg, Nick put his arm around the younger man's shoulder and squeezed him to his side.

"I'm proud of you, Greggo!"

In Nick's truck, Greg slyly said, "My true addiction will never show up in those tests." Then he leaned over and kissed Nick, not caring if anyone saw. As it was, since they'd told Ecklie, the news would probably spread through the department so fast that by their shift the next night, everyone would know about their relationship.


End file.
